


barely breathing

by sunnysidedown



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnysidedown/pseuds/sunnysidedown
Summary: What was Andrew's life but one tragedy after another?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings [and sometimes memories] for their love also disappear.” Copied and pasted from [Fanlore](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disjointed A/N:**  
>  For someone who says she doesn’t like flowers, I sure do write about them a lot.  
> Some dialogue has been taken from the books.  
> When did this go from ‘lol Andrew pukes flowers’ to the first two books from Andrew’s POV?  
> Have you ever noticed how E X T R A these boys are? Because wow.

Andrew watched as Neil struggled for air on the ground. The racket in his hands was smaller and lighter than the one he was used to. A grin stretched across his face. There was something funny about this Neil Josten. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Fuck you,” Neil wheezed, his eyes a fierce glare.

Ah. There was one thing. The unnatural ring around his irises. Contacts. And not just the corrective kind. “Better luck next time kid.”

The door slammed open. “Hey what’s going on in there?” Some old man said as he came into the locker room. Wymack came out of the office as well. Andrew officially lost interest. Wymack said something to him but he was already checked out of the conversation. He waved his hand, absently coughed into the crook of his arm, and wandered away. There had to be something more interesting out in the hallway.

* * *

Andrew skipped his morning dose. He has done many illegal things in his life, though nothing worse than jaywalking can be proven after his records were sealed. The one thing he refused to do was drive under any sort of influence whether it be alcohol or his own medication.

Wymack put Aaron to the task of picking up the Josten boy. It’s unfortunate for him that he didn’t remember only two people were allowed in the driver seat of his car. The smart thing to have done would have been to ask Nicky, but that wouldn’t have stopped Andrew either.

The low burning headache that started an hour after missing his scheduled dose pulsed in the back of his mind. He made sure to eat something light in case his stomach got upset so he wouldn’t end up vomiting bile and stomach acid while on the road. The last thing he needed was to pull over in the middle of the interstate.

He saw Neil before Neil saw him. He looked lost in the way he clutched the strap of his duffle bag. A baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes hiding his dull black hair. His eyes kept moving, tracking, trying to see everything in the room. Suspicious. So suspicious.

Despite his best attempts, the nausea still found him. Andrew lit up a cigarette to help take off the edge. They chatted on the car ride back to Wymack’s place. Chatted wasn’t the correct term. It was carefully pointed questions on Andrew’s side, a pop quiz of sorts. Neil talked like he was navigating a minefield. Each sentence delicate, crafted, dull. Pointless in the scheme of things. A waste of Andrew’s time.

Andrew parked the car in the Wymack’s apartment lot. The nausea lingering in the back of his throat turned into an itch. Andrew held off as long as he could before he let the cough escape. The coughs were wet, like phlegm trying to get loose in the throat, but it was a little different than that. His heart thundered once and pinched in a way that felt like it was trying to pump lead through his veins.

Neil was looking at him. He could feel the amusement radiating off of him. “What’s the saying? Only idiots and old people catch colds in the summer?”

“No, I’m just allergic to whatever you are,” Andrew replied and got out of the car, popping the trunk so Neil could get his stuff, and joined the welcoming party.

In Wymack’s apartment while Aaron and Nicky disappeared to give Neil a tour, Kevin held out Andrew’s medicine bottle. “Give me that,” he said. Snatching it from Kevin’s fingers and locked himself in the bathroom. He popped two pills in his mouth and swallowed them dry. They won’t kick in right away, but the thought of future relief eased the pounding of his head.

His throat still itched and he coughed again but this time something came up. Hands gripping the edges of the sink he spat and froze. In the sink was a single petal.

“Oh,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “This could be a problem.” Andrew turned on the faucet and washed the petal down the drain.

* * *

The lights beamed down on the court. Andrew watched from the shadows as Kevin critiqued Neil again on form, aim, strength, and focus. Neil was just as exy obsessed as Kevin. Andrew couldn’t relate. But more than that, Andrew did not understand Neil.

Andrew coughed and his chest ached. Smooth velvet coated his tongue and he forced himself to swallow. The petals were nothing. Neil was nothing. Especially since his every action was a contradiction. There were too many pieces missing. A simple vanity search brought up nothing of importance. No social media and no articles before his senior year of high school. Neil Josten was literally no one.

There was a smack and Andrew refocused on the players in the court. Neil was on the ground, arms splayed out, racket a few feet away. Kevin stood above him with a frown. He watched as Neil tried to get up again to pick up his racket and failed. The pain in Andrew’s chest intensified. Andrew needed answers.

* * *

The door to the bathroom opened. Neil tried to sneak to his bedroom but Andrew trailed after him. The new clothes were a vast improvement to his previous ones. Andrew leaned against the doorway and watched the fabric bend and shift along Neil’s body as he shoved his clothes in his bottom dresser drawer. When he turned to glare at Andrew, his eyes weren’t the muddy dirt brown he was used to seeing. Instead they were icy blue.

Neil walked to the doorway and stopped as close as he dared. Andrew didn’t know what was happening until his hands reached out and brought Neil’s head down closer. Saying his eyes were blue was like saying the sky at dawn was only one color. His eyes were made up of shades starting with the lightest of blues where it was one step up from being white to the darkest, midnight blue. Mixed in between were greys and yellows complementing and adding depth. The black hair that framed Neil’s face chilled the ice in his eyes.

Andrew let go before a cough could escape from his mouth.

On the road they stopped to let Andrew out. It was the withdrawal that made him puke but it was more petals than bile. It was dark and the weeds were long so the petals were hidden from view but for good measure, he kicked dirt over them. Wiping his mouth, he got back into the car ignoring the accusing look from Neil.

* * *

Andrew watched as the others ran around the house in hopes of finding Neil. It was useless. Neil was gone and so were Andrew’s plans for answers. He told himself it was only a slight hangover that was bubbling in his gut.

He wasn’t surprised to get a call from Wymack after a night out in Columbia. He wasn’t surprised to see Neil made it back to Palmetto in one piece. What did surprise him was the confession in German.

“I’m tired,” Neil said to finish his story.

Andrew stepped in close. Neil was back to wearing brown contacts, the fire doused with defeat.

“Let me stay. I’m not ready to give this up yet.”

Andrew could feel the roots in his chest stir, cutting his breath short. Neil’s words triggered memories best forgotten of when it was only him he had protect and no one else. And how everything crashed and burned around him. Who was he to burn Neil when the cruel hands of fate would do it for him given time.

Andrew stepped back. A cough firmly lodged in his throat. “Keep it if you can. You and I both know it won’t last long.”

Andrew would not be in the middle of it when this exploded in Neil’s face. But he will be close enough to watch. And to make sure that Neil was the only one destroyed.

* * *

The sun set to the west, behind Andrew’s spot on the roof. The air held in the heat of the day refusing to leave room for the coolness of night. A storm was coming. A key sat in his pocket and a smile crept up Andrew’s face unwillingly. Neil Josten. So suspicious, but so _interesting_. He had a death wish with the way he spoke with Riko and maybe Andrew did too with every petal coughed up and dropped off the side of the roof. Andrew couldn’t remember the last time he had been so entertained.

* * *

Andrew and Neil sat outside on the porch. The others were scattered around the driveway after hearing the news of Seth’s death. Neil stole his cigarette.

Andrew calculated. Adding Neil, subtracting Seth, keeping Kevin to the left, and dividing the team between himself and Renee. His agenda shifted as he arrived to an answer.

“I don’t feel for anyone or anything. Don’t forget that.” The words were directed at both Neil and himself, but the more he repeated it in his head, the worse the ache in his chest became and the more the petals spilled from his mouth.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Andrew said, a key burning in his hand like the ashes of a cigarette. “You’re staying here.”

He couldn’t call it spontaneous because the key was made days ago. But the final decision to hand it over was new. He exchanged the key for his stolen cigarette, pressing the key into the center of Neil’s palm as a final and firm order to stay.

Andrew turned and walked into the house sparing himself from Neil’s reaction. He went straight out the back door. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. He coughed once, tried to hold his breath to stop the second one, coughed again, then doubled over and vomited. This time it was a mess of soft white petals and in the middle the head of a single daisy.

* * *

Neil was looking at Andrew. Really seeing him instead of the drugs and his past. Him. Not an exy player. Not a protector. Not a prison. Not a monster. And wasn’t that scary. Neil wasn’t paid like Betsy. He wasn’t pulled twenty different ways like Wymack. He didn’t have a son named Drake like Cass. He was just a lost person looking straight at him and it was unsettling.

‘When the medication is gone, who will you really hurt?’ Neil had asked. The only acceptable answer was himself. He would make sure of that.

“Bee has a thing for lost causes." Andrew said with the exy rackets surrounding them. But it wasn’t only Betsy. An unexpected letter, a soft knock on Wymack’s door, a hand clutching a duffel bag. There was a trend in Andrew’s life and he didn’t like it.

"I am not a lost cause."

Andrew put his hand over Neil's mouth to make him quiet and said, "Liar. But that's what makes you interesting. Tell me Neil, do you believe in fate? Don’t answer. I already know. Here’s my take. If fate were tangible, I would destroy it."

Andrew could feel it burning in his chest. The flowers growing, taking root in his lungs, spreading, tangling around his bronchus. Neil stared back at him, his blue eyes deep with a hot retort. They were too close.

"I'll find Kevin. He's too slow." Andrew said and walked away.

* * *

Andrew’s hands slid under Neil’s shirt, guided by Neil’s own hands. He felt the raised smooth ridges of scarred skin. Neil was asking for trust. Andrew didn’t even trust himself. He was so tired. His lungs were collapsing in on him. “Okay,” he said to Easthaven, to the trust, to the promise. He needed to leave; he needed space. From Neil, from everything.

He left the house with Betsy in tow. “Excuse me Bee.” He walked over to the flower bed and puked up his breakfast and a handful of petals. A stem peeked out of his mouth and he pulled, shredding his throat with its thorns. He was up and walking back to the car before Betsy could check on him. Andrew ignored the iron taste of blood in his mouth.

* * *

They said that the first two weeks of drug withdrawal were the worst. Whoever said that was correct, but they never specified exactly why it was the worst. He was too exhausted, too awake, and too nauseous all at once, all the time. It was a good day if he kept water down, even better if he got out of bed for more than fifteen minutes.

Withdrawal was bad but what came after was almost worse. Dr. Proust was his name and Andrew will remember it but only for when his name pops up in the obituaries.

“Petals, hm? Interesting.”

Andrew gagged again over the bucket at the mere sound of his voice.

“Hanahaki disease. Very uncommon, but poetic don’t you think? This is the first time I’ve come across a case this… advanced. It’s a wonder you can still have emotions like this after everything you’ve been through.” Proust made a note on his notepad. “You know what? I’m going to do you a favor.” He leaned down and if Andrew had more strength, he would have thrown the garbage can at him. “Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.”

* * *

The hallway out of Easthaven was unending. Every step felt like the distance between his point and the door doubled. He closed his eyes slowly and when he opened them, he was at the door. He stopped there and stared at the handle. His therapist leading him out stopped as well. The bag of his belongings dragged down on his shoulder. They were waiting for him in the lobby. His skin itched under his turtleneck.

“Are you ready?” his therapist asked.

Andrew didn’t answer and opened the door.

Everyone in the room looked up at the sound. Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, and…

Andrew’s eyes connected with the beat up boy in the lobby and apathy washed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could end here but I wrote a little something continuing from Neil’s POV :)


	2. Chapter 2

Neil stood when Nicky entered the room. Nicky nodded. Andrew was ready for him. There must have been something on his face because Nicky stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Neil flinched and Nicky snatched his hand back.

“Sorry…” Nicky awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, don’t worry about Andrew. This is how he was before.”

Neil nodded without a word and walked out the door.

On the roof, Andrew stood with his feet lined up at the edge. Smoke trailed lazily into the sky. It was getting dark with the sun barely hanging onto the horizon as it sunk down into the ground.

From the few months he was gone Neil forgot how small Andrew was. It was strange what was becoming a big part of his life could fit into such a small man.

“Did I break my promise or were you keeping yours?” Andrew almost looked lost when he spoke, but Neil knew better. Neil didn’t know Andrew before he was on the medication, but he knew the Andrew that pushed a key into his palm, the Andrew that gave him a phone and a reason to stay, the Andrew who would destroy fate or die trying.

“Neither,” Neil replied. “I spent Christmas in Evermore.”

When Andrew lifted his hand to tear the bandage from Neil’s face, Neil’s eyes were drawn to Andrew’s neck. He froze. The sting of the ripped bandage secondary to the emotion that flooded his body. Andrew was talking but it was only buzzing in his ears.

Peeking out of the sides of Andrew’s collar were bandages. His blood ran cold with fury. “Riko said Dr. Proust wouldn’t –” Neil was cut off with a hand over his mouth and a dead stare.

Neil remembered the faded marks hidden by arm bands. His chest ached with his failure. “I’m so –” Neil tried to speak around the hand.

“If the next word out of your mouth is ‘sorry’ I’ll push you off.”

Neil stopped. Andrew removed his hand.

“Go away. I’m done talking with you.”

“But –”

“I won’t ask again.”

“You have my keys.”

Andrew removed his car key from Neil’s keys and tossed his cigarette and the keys off the side of the building. “Not anymore.”

His keys glinted like a falling star, but it was too late for any wishes. Neil left the roof. He picked up both the keys and Andrew’s discarded cigarette and watched Andrew turn to leave.

The smoke itched his throat. Pressure began to build in his chest. He doubled over coughing and in his hands, petals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I thought Hanahaki Disease was silly but then someone said this other thing I wrote reminded them of it so I reconsidered especially since the fanlore page pointed out the angst potential.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye open ending! Hello steps towards a happier one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like 3 people asked me to continue this despite me not having anything planned after Neil finding petals in his hands. So, well, here. This has been sitting on my computer for about 6 months lol

Renee was humming softly under her breath as she hung up the last of her clothes when a knock came at their dorm door.

“I’ll get it,” Dan said from the living room. The old, beat up recliner creaked as Dan stood, her footsteps soft on the carpet.

“What are you doing here Andrew.”

Renee paused at Dan’s tone.

“Renee.” Andrew’s voice drifted into her room.

At the obvious summoning, Renee set her last shirt on the bed to put up later. Out by the door, Dan held the door open but blocked Andrew’s path in. Renee examined Andrew closer. She saw him at the court earlier but now was a little different. His expression was neutral, like the times before he stepped onto court for a game when he was off his medicine. But it was worse now. So much worse. Before, mania creeped into the edges of his expression, a ghostly imprint of the drugs still in his system. Now, it was like a blank slate, a face slack in sleep or in death but with the eyes still open to the world.

Their eyes met and it was like looking into a void. Andrew gave the barest of nods before leaving. Renee understood and went to change into some looser clothes.

They met up at the usual place in the Fox Tower’s basement. The air chilly compared to the higher floors. Andrew slid into a starting stance the moment Renee walked in and she followed suit.

They stared each other down, slowly circling around the room. Andrew moved first, a little unusual in their spars. Renee reacted quickly and Andrew was on the ground from an easily dodged maneuver.

“You’re distracted,” Renee said to Andrew’s supine form.

Andrew didn’t say anything and got up to start again. It was a repeat of the first time; Andrew was back on the ground.

Renee had enough. Andrew got into a starting position but Renee sat down cross legged and stared up at Andrew pressuring him to do the same. He submitted and sat.

“What’s wrong?”

Andrew was silent for a long time before he spoke. “I seem to have some gaps in my memory. Is he one of mine or one of yours?”  

Renee’s eyes drew to his neck, to the bandages peeking out from the edges of his collar and suddenly she knew what had happened while Andrew was at Easthaven. And she knew who Andrew was referring to as well. Her own faded scars ached for a short second. It was harder to breath like her throat was clogged despite the emptiness she knew was there.

“What do you want to know?”

“Neil Josten.”

* * *

Kevin grabbed two shots from Neil’s tray and downed them in quick succession. His eyes were already glazed from the first round of drinks and the packet of dust he inhaled earlier, but Neil still played it safe and spoke German anyway. “Why does Roland think you’re tying me down?”

There it was again in Andrew’s eyes, a deep emptiness like part of his soul was missing. “He probably thinks you’re as bad at following directions as he is.”  
Neil frowned. That wasn’t quite what he was looking for. He tried again. “What’s outside of coach’s pay grade?”

“It’s irrelevant since I don’t exactly know who you are.” Andrew closed his mouth and Neil knew he would get no more answers out of him for the night.

Neil frowned while he turned Andrew’s words around in his mind. He was careful. Andrew couldn’t know everything about him except the things he’s told him and Kevin wouldn’t say anything.

And then it hit him and his stomach clenched like his drink was spiked again.

Neil was smart. He wouldn’t have survived as long as he did if he didn’t have some deductive reasoning skills. He ran through every interaction he’s had with Andrew since he came back from Easthaven. The clues were everywhere: the way he ignored Neil at first, the coldness that everyone said was normal when Neil knew Andrew was far from heartless, the bandages that were around his neck and the scars that lie under them. He didn’t know how he could be so blind especially since he suffered from the same disease. Neil was going to puke but this time not from the flowers.

And that’s when the second realization came.

_Andrew was in love with him._

But not anymore.

The world tilted on its axis, nausea sat rooted in the pit of his stomach, and pain blossomed in his chest. He never expected anything to happen between him and Andrew, but the cold truth still stung. Neil planned on running at the end of the season, but there was no use to it now. If his father doesn’t get to him first, the flowers will take care of him. Either way, he was doomed to an early death.

\--

The days passed slowly and Neil found himself seeking Andrew out. It would never be anything. Every moment spent with him, another spike of pain lodged itself in his chest, but being with Andrew, was like being on an exy court. With every meaningless conversation they had up on the rooftop and the secrets exchanged in their game of truths, Neil felt like himself. Not Chris or Alex or any of the personas he’s created while on the run. He felt alive. When he was gone and he was just a footnote in the Foxes’ yearbook, he knew that there at least one person who cared about him, that he left some type of mark on the world, that someone would remember the insignificant man named Neil Josten.

His birthday came and blood dripped from his locker, a number counted down on his cell phone. The game was a blur. He vaguely knew they won but it was like watching everything through binoculars from the top of the Fox Tower.

Everything snapped into focus the next day when Andrew gripped the sides of Neil’s face and leaned in. Their lips crashed together and Neil’s heart stuttered to a stop. It was brief, lasting seconds before Andrew backed away with a storm in his eyes.

“Andrew--” Neil began, desperately trying to catch up in their conversation.   
“No,” Andrew frowned. His eyebrows creased together. “This is nothing.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted nothing?”

Andrew’s gait faltered briefly before he kept walking.

Something warm stirred in Neil’s chest. Andrew was not someone who would do something he didn’t mean. Neil didn’t want to say it was hope, but even he was foolish sometimes. The warmth grew until it burned through Neil’s veins. He could feel it coming and whatever hope bloomed in his chest was choked by the poisonous vines growing, thriving, constricting his lungs. He leaned over the side of the roof. Wind pushed his hair out of his face. It was a long way down.

He puked.

He wiped his mouth, his throat raw, his hand stained red like the blood that poured from his locker.

It was nothing, like Andrew said.

He was fine.

* * *

“How are you today Andrew?” Betsy asked. Andrew’s face remained mostly blank, but his eyebrows scrunched together. A frown, Betsy has learned. The mug in front of him has long cooled off.

“It hurts Bee.”

“What does Andrew?” Betsy asked, straightening in her chair.

“It hurts Bee but there is no longer anything there.” Whether he knew it or not, Andrew’s hand moved to grip his shirt over his chest.

“Ah. I was afraid that was the case.” She tried to keep her voice neutral with the sudden anger rushing through her veins. Easthaven has some explaining to do and if it didn’t end in a malpractice lawsuit she would damn well make sure the doctors responsible were punished. “Since you came back, I noticed the injuries around your neck. I had a guess but I hoped it wasn’t true. I did some research anyway. Would you like to hear what I found?”

Andrew didn’t say anything. Betsy continued.

“Hanahaki disease is unique in how it’s a virus that attacks the emotions, specifically feelings of love. Left unchecked it will kill you. Most cases end that way, but since the discovery of the removal procedure, the fatality rate has dropped significantly.”

Betsy paused to checked Andrew’s reaction. He was still slumped on the couch but his eyes were alert with interest.

“When it’s removed, you have to remove all of it and what it feeds on. Any shred left will leave room for relapse. The surgery is sometimes lifesaving but it’s also a double edged sword due to the memory loss.

“Andrew. You’re a smart man. Just because the flowers are gone, it doesn’t mean you lose the ability to feel. There’s nothing holding you back from what you want. I want you to think about that for our next session.”

* * *

Neil Josten. Neil Abram Josten. The name tasted like dust on Andrew’s lips. The aching hole in his chest consumed him whole.

“Andrew.” Neil’s voice was soft. Andrew looked up at Neil leaning over his bus seat and he continued, “Let me ask you this. Do you believe in fate?”

The question sounded familiar and Andrew didn’t have to think about his answer. “If fate were tangible, I would destroy it.”

Neil smiled like he knew something Andrew didn’t. The sun streamed through the window, making Neil’s hair glow like fire and his eyes burn like dry ice. “Then, Andrew, you have to let me go.”

Andrew swallowed. He felt like he was backed into a corner with no way to escape except through the path Neil provided. He didn’t like it. It was unsettling how much he trusted Neil, how he was going to break his promise because it was Neil who asked. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but Andrew never really knew what sweet was supposed to taste like.

The little black ‘4’ was a blemish on Neil’s face. Death, in so many languages. Bad luck. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Okay.” Two sides of Andrew’s mind were at war and a bomb just went off. It was a punch to the gut that felt worse than waking up in Easthaven with a spotty recollection of the fall semester. In the settling dust, only one thing remained. “Okay,” he said again because he was getting into the habit of saying useless things.

“Thank you.” Neil smiled wider and the look burned itself into Andrew’s memory. A weight should have been lifted from a promise he no longer need to keep but it was like gravity tripled since the word ‘okay’ left his mouth.

* * *

Neil trailed behind and when Andrew stopped to look at him the words slipped from his throat. “Thank you.” For the keys, the promises, the flowers both gone and sprouting within his chest. For letting him go. In his life he never knew he would have the chance to feel like he does towards Andrew. He never knew someone would feel that way towards him. If their timelines lined up a little different, if Neil fell a little faster, if Andrew refused to go to Easthaven, Neil wondered what could have been. Could they have avoided the tragedy of missed opportunities? Could they have shared more than that one short kiss? The sobering zero and Romero and Jackson reminded him that whatever way it went it would end with him in a body bag so maybe it was best if the thing between them remained in the starting gates. Neil was a dead man walking and Andrew didn’t deserve a love built on a ticking time bomb. He deserved to have some sort of happiness in his life and he knew that he only brought misfortune. “You were amazing.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed in thought. He opened his mouth to say something but they were pulled outside and the final act of the tragedy of Nathaniel Abram Wesninski began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how to get from point A to B for the last bit so it might be a while until the last chapter is posted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Tumblr: [sunnyupsidedown](sunnyupsidedown.tumblr.com)


End file.
